Revenge is Bittersweet
by Venia Stark
Summary: Dean Ambrose, an agent of the FBI, thought he'd seen the last of Seth Rollins when he broke up with him two years prior. But now and his partner Roman Reigns are assigned to a case where Seth Rollins is one of the main suspects, and Dean is out for revenge for what Seth did to him. But revenge isn't always as sweet as they say. AU. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! I'm going to attempt to tackle a multi-chapter story, as part of a request for the ever wonderful chanelle13. (First request! Yesss! XD) So here I am. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** The normal legal mumbo jumbo. I don't own anything but maybe part of the story idea. I'm not making any money off of this. (I wish. Maybe I'd be able to afford WrestleMania Tickets then.)

**A Little Warning:** It is slash, so for those of you who don't like that... best be turning around. Everyone else, here it is!

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><p>Dean flinched, already knowing a handprint would be left as Seth pulled his hand away from hitting Dean's face. His other hand had a tight grip in Dean's short hair, holding his head up off of the ground.<p>

"I'm better than this!" Seth told him angrily. "I'm better than you Ambrose!" He slapped Dean across the face, and Dean grinned, inviting Seth to hit him again. "You're FBI, and that makes you nothing but a filthy pig Ambrose. You're not even good enough to kiss my ass!"

"And yet I've done that," Dean smirked, unwilling to go down just yet as his likely to be ex-boyfriend taunted him.

Seth looked like he was going to hit Dean again, but he just shook his head. "You're pathetic Ambrose. You never know when to shut up." He punctuated each word with a slap to Dean's face, and Dean imagined the skin had to be bright red by now.

Seth was right though; he didn't know when to shut up, because he smirked at Seth, and he spoke again. "At least I know how to hit someone though. I've had little girls hit me harder."

"You want me to hit you again? Huh? Is that it?" Seth balled a fist, striking Dean with a sharp jab to the side of the head. "How's that? You still want more Ambrose?"

Dean was seeing stars, his vision pulsing in and out in time with his heartbeat. But he wasn't unconscious yet, which was what Seth was going to need to make him be if he wanted him to shut up. "That all ya got?" Dean mocked, though his voice was slower than before; it was harder to focus on speaking.

"You're unbelievable Ambrose. Fine? You want this so bad?" Seth hauled him up so he was resting on his hands and knees, slapping him one last time. "Here ya go."

Dean struggled to get out of the way, but he was too dizzy from past abuse to move, and Seth ran back, coming back and bringing his boot down onto the back of Dean's head, sending him crashing face-first into the unforgiving hotel room floor. Dean's world faded out for a moment, but Seth came back and grabbed ahold of Dean's hair, his face close to Dean's. "And in case you hadn't figured it out yet? I'm breaking up with you." He then kicked Dean in the back, pushing him back down to the floor. Dean managed to turn his head to watch as Seth left the hotel room, and then Dean's world faded as he let unconsciousness overcome him.

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><p>Roman woke as Dean sat up in panic, breathing heavily. Looking over, Roman saw that Dean's eyes were wide, and though it was dark Roman wanted to say he saw tears on Dean's cheeks. He didn't mention it, knowing that Dean disliked people seeing him crying; it was better to pretend like it didn't happen. Roman just moved closer to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him and gently kissing his neck. "Bad dreams?" He murmured. It wasn't uncommon in their line of work; there were plenty of experiences that left them scarred, if not physically.<p>

Dean nodded tightly. "I just keep remembering that night."

Dean didn't even have to tell him what it was. Roman knew. Dean had told the story a dozen times, of how Seth Rollins's abuse had finally crossed the line, his hatred for Dean boiling over before their breakup. Rollins had been lucky he hadn't broken Dean.

Roman had been tempted to hunt Seth down after that. He'd only been work partners with Dean for about two months at the time, but it still had hurt him to see Dean in such emotional pain. It had been difficult to see such a strong man broken. Roman was there for Dean to fall back on though, and in the following two years they'd grown closer—something Roman certainly hasn't expected. He'd only ever liked women up until that point, but at the same time he was only interested in Dean. He'd tried to look it up online but it'd confused him more than anything, so he'd decided to simply leave it alone, content in his love for Dean, and Dean's love for him. The other man didn't admit it much, but Roman knew.

He spoke to Dean now though. "I never figured out why you didn't turn him in," he murmured, kissing Dean's head again. Roman didn't have to ask or say who he was speaking of; they both knew it was about Seth.

Dean shrugged, slowly relaxing in Roman's arms. "I told you before. I didn't want people knowing I was in a relationship with a guy."

"Yet you're okay with people knowing about us." They'd had this conversation hundreds of times. It calmed Dean down though, and that was all that mattered.

"You're better than he was. And he had the criminal background. You know I could have lost my badge for hanging out with a felon."

This was a new development. Roman kissed Dean's neck, feeling Dean slide closer to him as Roman rested his head on Dean's shoulder. "You never told me he was a felon."

Dean nodded tightly, and Roman saw Dean's hands tighten their grip around the sheets. "He was in for selling drugs. Got out early on good behavior."

"What kind of drugs?"

"Cocaine mainly. Some heroin too. Really expensive shit." Dean fell silent. "I knew it the moment I started dating him he was gonna be trouble. I did a background check as soon as I met him, but I still started dating him anyway." Dean sighed before laughing bitterly. "I make fun of people who think criminals reform themselves, yet for the time I dated him, I was one of those people. I thought he could be better."

Roman simply kissed Dean's neck again. "It's not your fault. People do all sorts of things for love."

Dean turned around to kiss Roman softly. "Stupid things."

"It's not stupid to try and hope for someone you trusted." Roman kept his arms around Dean as Dean relaxed back against his shoulder.

"I shouldn't have ever trusted him though," Dean pointed out.

Roman once again nearly suggested therapy as he usually did, but knowing that it just led to an argument and one of them sleeping on the couch, he just let it go. "There's nothing you can do about it now," Roman reminded him.

"I know. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that. Still doesn't change the fact that I feel like shit anytime I think about him."

"Don't think about him then," Roman suggested, pulling them down so they were both lying on their sides. He ran his fingers through some tangles in Dean's short hair. "Just forget about him."

"That's brilliant Roman. Real quality advice right there," Dean said sarcastically, rolling over to glance back at Roman in the darkness of the apartment. "Had any other stroke of genius lately?"

"Shut up," Roman muttered halfheartedly, not really meaning it. "Go back to sleep. We're getting a new assignment tomorrow, and I don't want you nodding off during the meeting."

"I don't pay attention at those things anyway. That's what I've got you for."

"Dean."

"What if the nightmare comes back?" Now Dean sounded vulnerable, something that was always unsettling for Roman. Dean was always tough as nails.

Roman knew he had to be strong for Dean though. He just rested his head in the crook of Dean's shoulder. "They're not coming back. You're not going to have to deal with him again. Ever."

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><p><strong>AN:** Hope you liked it so far! Reviews are always welcome/appreciated. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I know I just posted the story, but I wanted to post this because it really introduces what's in the summary, lol; it's the last bit of introduction. Hope you enjoy! :)

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><p>"Shut up Summer," Dean told her casually, walking past where she stood, hands on her hips. "We're not late. Everyone else is just early." He strolled down the hall, heading toward the office where he knew the higher-ups would be waiting. He thought he heard Roman murmur an apology to Summer, but he continued onward anyway.<p>

Roman caught up to him quickly. "You could try being more social, you know."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Me? Social?" He laughed. "You've been saying that for two years now. Nothing's changing Roman." He pushed open the door into the meeting room, nearly running into his boss, AJ Lee.

"Your punctuality could use some changing," AJ remarked, glaring up at him. "You're late."

"Better late than never?" Dean said with a shrug, moving to the table to sit down, propping his feet up on the table immediately.

AJ knocked his feet off the table as she walked by, sending his chair spinning around. As she sat down though, he spun back around, crossing his arms behind his head as he rested his boots on the table. AJ just sighed, figuring it wasn't worth pushing him on. Dean smirked as Roman sat down next to him, though Roman kept his boots off of the table.

AJ turned on the projector, letting it load the images on the wall behind her, and she glanced up at Roman and Dean. "Alright. I promised you two a new assignment, since you seemed to have already finished the paperwork on the McIntyre case…" She pressed a button on the laptop in front of her, sitting down in the chair across from Dean and Roman. An image of a middle-aged man popped up on the screen. "This is Hunter Hearst Helmsley, better known as Triple H." AJ paused, pushing some large files over to Roman and Dean. Dean of course ignored them while Roman opened one of the folders, flipping through the papers and scanning a few of them. "He's a gang leader here in California; he's the leader of the Authority."

"But he's in prison." Roman frowned, looking up from the papers. "Hell, he's in Pelican Bay. What's the problem with him?"

"That's where the problem is. He's in Pelican Bay, and he's not allowed any visitors, and no sound ever gets to him. And yet the gang is in perfect working order, as if he's still giving commands."

"You cut off one head and two grow back," Roman observed.

"Why aren't the gang task forces taking care of this?" Dean questioned, staring at the off-white ceiling. "Isn't that their job?"

AJ sighed, clearly trying to keep ahold of her patience. She was quickly back to her overly bubbly self. "Okay, yes, it is normally their job to deal with the gangs. The thing is though that they go in and arrest the higher-ups or gather up some of the henchmen. There's just one problem though—we don't know who those higher-ups are. And that's where you two come in." She pushed three more large files across the table. "The last team managed to narrow it down to three men. AJ pressed the button on the laptop again, a new image appearing on the screen.

Roman interrupted her. "Uh, AJ, what happened to the other team?"

"That's classified," AJ said shortly, leaving no room for any other questions as she glanced up at the man on the screen. "This is Kane. He's wanted on several charges of arson and murder. No one can seem to get close enough to him to arrest him though, or he'd be in prison with his buddy Triple H." AJ glared up at the projection on the wall. "They've been working together for nearly twenty years now—there's more in their files. If Triple H had to risk giving control over to anyone… it'd likely be Kane." AJ brought up another picture. "The last team thought that there were two other guys chomping at the bit to get control though. This guy is one of them. Name is Randy Orton. He's been to prison for different things, but for the most part, he's got a temper on him, and he's snapped more than once. It's all been misdemeanors that he's been caught for though, and because Triple H has money, he'd gotten Orton's sentences reduced to probation a lot of the time, and we haven't gotten him pinned down for anything serious yet. Rumor has it he's very trigger-happy, something Triple H wasn't afraid to utilize before he got locked up. Orton's been working with Triple H for about ten years now. If Triple H wanted someone younger in charge… Orton would be the guy." AJ paused. "There's one last guy. I personally don't think he's got what it takes to be in charge of the gang, but the last team said he was worth investigating." She pressed the laptop button again, and Dean's feet slipped off the table as he sat up quickly, staring at the photo projected onto the wall.

"Dean?" Roman's voice was a balm to the panic rising up in him. He felt Roman's hand on his shoulder, and then Roman spun the chair around, removing the picture of Seth Rollins from Dean's view. Roman glanced over at AJ for just a moment. "That's him?"

Dean nodded, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair tightly. There was no reason for him to be scared of Seth Rollins; he should be nothing but angry for the man abusing him.

Roman faced AJ now. "We can't take this case AJ."

Dean shook his head violently as AJ raised an eyebrow. "We're taking it." Despite the panic, his voice was calm. He made sure not to look at the photo of his ex-boyfriend projected up on the wall, knowing it would ruin his composure—the composure that was hanging on by a mere thread.

"Is there something you two aren't telling me?" AJ questioned.

"It's nothing," Dean assured AJ. "So what's this guy's story? He looks a bit young to be in contention for leadership of a gang." He studiously ignored the concerned glances Roman was giving him, but Roman apparently didn't want to talk about it in public, something Dean appreciated.

"This is Seth Rollins." AJ pointed to the last remaining file, which was surprisingly thin. "And you're right, he is young. He's your age, in fact." She met their gazes. "That doesn't mean you should underestimate him though. He hardly has anything resembling a criminal background—a few drug possessions with intent to sell charges—but that doesn't mean he isn't dangerous. If he's running with the Authority, he's deadly."

Roman nodded. "Duly noted." He flipped through Seth's file, and Dean watched as he carefully scanned some of the pages. "So what's the mission here? Take out these three? What?"

AJ shook her head. "We know who these three are. What we need to do is figure out who's in charge, and how they're getting messages from Triple H, or if one of these three is actually the one sending out the orders."

"And after that?"

"Then we let the gang task force take care of them."

"And let them claim all the credit," Dean noted dourly, though he shivered as he looked up at the wall projection.

AJ nodded. "Unfortunately." She turned off the projector, much to Dean's relief. "Do what you have to do to get the information. If you have to make any major calls though, I would appreciate you informing me of them." She grabbed her laptop. "Any other questions?"

Roman shook his head. "Not right now."

"I'll leave you two to it then. Call me if you need anything." With that AJ stood up, leaving the room.

Roman now looked over at Dean, who was staring pensively at Seth's open file. "We don't have to do this case Dean."

Dean looked over sharply. "Yes we do."

"Why?" Roman took Dean's hands in his. "Why put yourself through that?"

Dean thought about it. Realistically, a smarter person would walk away. He had nightmares about Seth still; taking this case would just make it worse. Others would say he was too close to the case to make objective decisions. What he should do is have Roman call AJ back into the room and tell her that it wasn't meant to be.

But Dean had never been one for doing what everyone else thought was best.

He stared at Roman, who he knew would do anything for him. "I have to do it Roman. There's a chance I can put him behind bars for life. There's a chance I can make that piece of shit pay for everything he put me through. I have to do it."

"Are you sure?" Roman leaned forward, his gray eyes worried. "I'm not going to think any less of you if you don't want to do this."

"You better not think any less of me for wanting to do this then," Dean told him firmly. "We're taking this case Roman."

"Alright." Roman stood up, Dean's hands still in his as Dean got to his feet as well. "Don't forget that I'm here for you."

Dean nodded. "Thanks Roman." He closed Seth's file, and placed it on top of the others before grabbing them. "Now come on. The sooner we get started the sooner I can sleep at night."

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><p>Roman sat down at his desk, watching as Dean dropped the files onto his already-cluttered desk. "Give me the files Dean. We don't need you losing them right away."<p>

Dean rolled his eyes, but he picked the files back up and set them down on Roman's tidy desk. "Here ya go."

"Thank you." Roman took a sip of his coffee that he'd picked up from the coffee shop across the street. He flipped through some of the papers, already pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where do we even start?"

Dean opened up a file randomly, poking the page he opened to with his index finger. "Right here."

Roman looked over the page, figuring it out what it was about. "This is about one of Triple H's associates—name of Dave Batista." He scanned the page, looking for anything important. "Apparently joined up with the Authority at the same time as Randy Orton." Flipping to the next page, he raised an eyebrow. "Well, it looks like for once you actually got lucky Dean." He pointed to the last note on the page. "He bailed on the Authority several months ago."

"He's a snitch," Dean observed, picking up the page to look at the man. "Do you think he'd have known who the leader was if it was only several months ago? It almost seems too easy."

Roman nodded. "You'd think the last team would have looked into it." He frowned. "It's got his address and phone number to contact him." He ran his hand through his hair. "I really wish we had the files on all the stuff the last team did on this. I hate going in blind on all this shit."

"And goodness knows it takes a lot to get you to swear." Dean dragged his chair over, resting his head on the back. "So what do you think we should do? Is Batista even a guy we're allowed to contact? It'd be bad if he's still an informant."

Roman shook his head. "He ratted them out in court." He pointed to the line on the page that said as much.

"If he snitched on the Authority, why hasn't he been taken out? Gangs don't usually like loose ends like that," Dean observed. "It's weird." He stared at the files, picking them up just to drop them back down on the desk. "This whole case is weird. All of the damn work the last team did is classified, and really, why should we need to find out who's in charge of the gang?"

"You have to have solid evidence for sending someone to prison Dean," Roman pointed out reasonably. "We have to pin it down on someone."

"And once we do that another piece of shit is going to take his place."

"I thought you wanted to put Rollins behind bars. We have to wade through all this stuff at the beginning before we start doing that." He carefully placed Batista's information back into the file. "We might as well start with him, see what he knows. Worst comes to worst he doesn't know anything." He wrote the address listed in the papers on a notepad, looking over at Dean. "Grab your coat. We're headed out."

"Good. I was already sick of all this paperwork." Dean pulled his coat off of the back of his chair, grabbing his car keys before heading for the door. Roman grabbed his coat as well, following Dean out of the office.

The short drive was silent, and they ended up in a well-to-do looking residential area. They pulled up outside the house that had been listed as Batista's, and Roman knocked on the door after checking for a doorbell. "Dave Batista? FBI." He knocked again when they got no response. He knocked a third time before Dean spoke.

"You think he's home?"

"His car is in the driveway," Roman pointed out. "And it's the only one listed as his. He's got to be home."

"We going in then?" Dean inhaled deeply, his nose wrinkling. "Ugh. You smell that?"

Roman inhaled, the cool air tinged by the stomach-turning smell of decay. He looked over at Dean. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We're going in and finding something messy?" Dean guessed.

Roman nodded. "I'll get the door. You go in first and clear it." He called out one last time in warning in case anyone was in the house. "We're coming in!" He reached for the door handle, surprised when the door opened without resistance. He glanced over at Dean, nodding at him and pushing the door open. Dean pulled out his gun, heading in first. Roman followed in just behind him, Dean reporting that the living room was clear. The smell in the house was much worse than it had been outside, and Roman had a good idea of what they'd find. Dean headed into the kitchen and Roman headed down the hall, his gun raised as he pushed open the first room door. It was a small office, and checking behind the desk, Roman verified that it was clear before coming back to the hallway, finding Dean watching the doorway, making sure no one crept up on him. They headed down the hall, stopping at a second room, which looked like an exercise room. It was clear as well, and they headed into the master bedroom, the last room except for the garage. Roman pushed the door open while Dean watched their backs, and Roman grimaced as he found Dave Batista, holstering his gun.

"Holy shit." Dean came in behind him, whistling lowly. Putting his gun away, Dean pressed up close behind Roman, pinching his nose. "So much for him being a loose end."

Dave Batista had clearly been dead for a while. Most of his skin had rotted or been eaten away, leaving mostly bones and some clothing. His skull had a hole in it, presumably from a bullet. Dried blood was splattered on the wall behind the body, encouraging Roman's theory that Batista had been shot. The stench was horrid, and Roman checked the bathroom before having them back out to the living room so they could breathe. He pulled out his phone, looking over at Dean. "I'm gonna call it in. Don't touch anything."

"Yes sir." Dean mockingly saluted him, and Roman headed outside, dialing the number for dispatch.

He was told by the dispatcher that a coroner's detective would be out shortly to take care of the body, and the dispatcher said it'd be likely that the detective would be contacting him, and local authorities would be out as well. Roman thanked the woman at the other end. Hanging up, he knew marking off the whole house as a precaution was probably a good idea. Dean had already gotten around to that though, rolling out the crime scene tape and stretching it across the yard.

Roman sighed. The whole crime scene was going to be a mess with all the different people vying for jurisdiction rights. In all likelihood Roman and Dean were going to have to let the detective take it, since it was technically his job to investigate deaths.

His work cell phone started ringing at that moment, and he answered it. The coroner's detective spoke first. "Agent Reigns?"

"That's me," Roman confirmed. "With whom am I speaking?"

"Detective Bryan of the coroner's division, sir. I heard you had a dead body?"

"Yeah. Guy's been dead a while too."

"Do you have any information on him?"

Roman went back to his car, flipping through his notebook to the information he'd written down on Batista. He couldn't help but sigh as he recited the information to the detective. He had the feeling this was going to be a long case.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had to stop himself from glaring as a young man approached him, gawking at the sight of the crime scene tape, along with the badge on Dean's waist, which barely peeked out from behind his coat. His gun was completely hidden behind his coat, out of sight. "Can I help you?" Dean asked politely as his hands rested on his belt, close enough to get to his gun quickly if he had to.

"I was just wondering what was going on. Is Dave okay?"

Dean debated what would be the better legal option—to tell or not to tell—but he decided he could tell him since the coroner would be showing up eventually. "He's dead."

The young man gaped. "Dave's dead? I know he'd been quiet the past few weeks, but..."

Dean decided the young man could be a good source of information. "You mind telling me when you last remember seeing him?"

"For investigation?" The man asked curiously, and Dean nodded, getting out the little notepad Roman always made him carry around. The young man seemed to think it over. "Um, the last time I saw him was...three weeks ago...on a Thursday. He was putting his trashcans away, and he went inside after that." The young man looked at the front door of the house curiously. "How'd he die?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," Dean told him honestly. He glanced up, meeting the young man's eyes. "Do you remember seeing any other vehicles or people around? Ones that usually aren't here?"

The young man nodded slowly. "There was a gray, like, seven passenger van parked in the driveway. Dave didn't seem too concerned about it though." The young man shrugged. "They left about a half hour after Dave got home."

Dean nodded. "Alright. Did you see any of the people when they came back out to their van? Anything you noticed?"

"Um...one of them had two-colored hair, split nearly right down the middle." The young man demonstrated on his own head.

Dean wanted to curse. Of course Rollins had been here. He didn't comment though. "Anything else you can remember?"

"There were three of them," the man said confidently. "Counting the guy with the two-colored hair. After they got in the van they left in a hurry."

"Alright. What's your name?" Dean asked the young man, watching as a local law enforcement officer rolled up in a patrol car, stopping in front of the house.

"Tyler Breeze."

Dean collected Breeze's phone number and home address, thanking him for his cooperation. After that he went back to Roman, making sure Breeze remained on the civilian side of the crime scene tape.

Roman was talking to the local officer, discussing what they'd found inside. The officer was recording things in his own notebook, and he glanced over at Dean as he walked up. Roman introduced them. "Officer, this is federal agent Dean Ambrose. Dean, this is Officer Johnny Curtis."

Dean shook the officer's hand, warily observing the notebook. Curtis was probably going to ask him questions about his account of what had happened, and Dean just wanted to talk to Roman.

Johnny Curtis spoke, and Dean wanted to bet the guy did some sort of drug recreationally—he talked slowly and in an odd manner. Either that or he was crazy. "So...Ambrose...why'd you come here? Federal agents...they typically don't do work this far south of San Francisco. That's where your office is, right?"

Dean resisted the urge to glance at Roman for how he was supposed to respond, knowing it would look suspicious to Curtis. He spoke calmly. "Yes, we're from the field office in San Francisco. We're down here investigating a case."

"What's the case about?" Curtis scribbled in his notepad, writing down information.

"That's classified." Roman cut in, preventing Dean from having to answer.

"I need to know why you were at this house," Curtis said, his voice raspy. "Otherwise I'll need to file breaking and entering charges." His voice contained just a note of a threat.

"Contact our superior officer, AJ Lee," Roman told him shortly, clearly growing tired of the officer. "We have a reason to be here. It's not breaking and entering."

Johnny Curtis looked at them both suspiciously. "I don't think either of you have the right to be here."

"Contact our superior officer," Roman repeated, and Dean knew from experience that Roman was working to keep his irritation from showing. "I gave you her number. Call her if it's that big of a deal."

Curtis frowned. "I'll need to interview eventually for your account," he told Dean. "I'm going to call your superiors."

Dean nodded, watching as an unmarked car rolled up, though his practiced eye recognized it as a police vehicle. Once it was parked on the curbside the driver's side door opened, and a man stepped out, closing the door and coming up the sidewalk. Dean left Roman to deal with Curtis, heading over to where the man stopped just outside the tape. Dean lifted it for him as the man showed him his badge, and the man glanced over at Dean. "Are you agent Reigns or Ambrose?"

"Ambrose," Dean told him. "You are?"

"Detective Daniel Bryan with the coroner's division," the man told him. "I'm here to deal with the body."

"Ah. You got a pickup crew coming in soon?"

The detective nodded. "He's about thirty minutes out from here, but that'll give us time to take some crime scene photos." He held up the camera he was carrying. "Gotta get lots of those if your partner thinks it's a homicide."

"That's what it looked like," Dean told him.

"Alright. Let's get some gloves on and we can go take a look." Bryan grabbed two sets of latex gloves from the back of his car, handing a pair to Dean. "You ever dealt with crime scenes?" He asked of Dean as they headed up the path.

Dean shook his head. "Not much. We went over what the procedure is, but I've never actually done anything as far as crime scenes go. My partner and I usually just deal with live people and interviewing. Paperwork."

Bryan grimaced. "Sounds kind of dull."

Dean nodded. "I hate paperwork."

Bryan pushed open the front door of Batista's house. "Well I hate to tell you, but if this is a homicide, there's going to be a _lot_ of paperwork involved."

"Great." Dean's voice was sarcastic, and Bryan grinned.

"And if he's been dead as long as you think he's been dead…"

"More paperwork. Got it." Dean groaned. He led Bryan down the hall. "He's in here," he told the detective, pushing open the bedroom door.

Bryan grimaced immediately upon entering the room. "Oh yeah, he's been dead for a while." He glanced around. "It's going to take a lot of work to get the smell out of the walls." He walked forward, looking the man over. "Yeah, definitely a homicide." He gazed at the body. "I don't know if this is actually our guy or not though, and he's not got a lot of skin left to tell." He looked back at Dean, standing back to snap a quick photo with his camera. "Do you know how long he's been here?"

Dean opened his notepad, checking it briefly. "Yeah. Neighbor said he saw Batista three weeks ago when some people visited him, and he didn't see him after that."

Bryan shook his head. "I guess they weren't here on a social call."

"He's a former gang member, so I'm not really surprised."

"That explains a lot. Most people don't bother to track down a target to their home and kill them in bed. Drive-by shootings are much more popular." Bryan frowned as he stared at the body for a moment. "The neighbors didn't report hearing any shots fired?"

Dean shook his head. "No."

"It had to have been silenced then," Bryan mused. "Which means more jail time for the people who did this if we can pin them down."

"We're working on that," Dean told him, staying out of the way as the detective took photos of the crime scene."

Bryan paused. "Did you say how long his friends were here for?"

Dean checked his notepad. "The neighbor said it was about a half hour that they were all here at the same time."

"Half hour's a long time to kill someone," Bryan noted. "Think they may have talked for little?"

"It's possible. They might have wanted him to die scared. They could have sat around for a while, played with killing him before actually doing so." It sounded like Seth's style—Dean knew it firsthand, after suffering through Seth's drawn out breakup. He didn't know about any of the other Authority members; he imagined if Seth had fallen in with them they were like that though. It was still surprising that Seth had joined a gang; Seth had always seemed to enjoy working solo—he liked having all the glory. Perhaps he wanted power now.

"Hey, Ambrose. You okay?"

Dean focused on Bryan, who was staring at him in concern. "What?"

"You were zoning a bit," the detective told him honestly. "You okay?"

"Yeah." It was a lie; Dean never did well after remembering what Seth had put him through. But he couldn't admit that to Daniel Bryan. What he needed to do was talk to Roman, but Roman was still busy outside. Bryan's words had given him a clue though. "If they were around here for longer than it took to shoot him... Might they have sat down? Talked to him? There could be hair and stuff."

"It'd be difficult to find after three weeks, but there is that." Bryan looked thoughtful. "It really depends on what room they were in, and what they were doing at the time. For example, if they only stood in the living room, there would be far less evidence than say, if they sat down to have a drink in the kitchen. If they weren't careful they may have even left fingerprints on the counters."

"I doubt gang members would be stupid enough to leave prints behind," Dean ventured.

Bryan shrugged, taking another few photos. "It'd surprise you how difficult it is not to do normal things. Anything from leaning up against the counter to resting your hand on it to balance yourself—any of that leaves behind evidence. Hair is also another major clue, especially when people have long hair."

Dean's mind automatically jumped to Seth's long hair. "So we probably shouldn't have been just walking up and down the halls."

Bryan nodded. "In theory. It's difficult to actually put into practice though. And you didn't know it was a crime scene when you first came in here." He gestured to the dead body of Batista. "Besides, this is the main crime scene. This is going to tell us a lot more in a much shorter amount of time than hours of scouring the floor for individual hairs will."

"Oh."

"So how long have you been working on this case?" Bryan asked conversationally, taking some pictures of other things in the room.

"About three hours, if you count the one hour coffee break."

Bryan laughed. "Didn't get breakfast this morning?"

"Nope." Dean shrugged. "Overslept."

Bryan nodded knowingly. "I know how that goes." He stood back now. "Alright, I need to get some of the evidence markers, and Curtis probably wants to talk to you." He grimaced.

Dean noticed the expression as it vanished from Bryan's face. "Something wrong with Curtis?"

"He's crooked," Bryan confided. "He accepts bribes from quite a few criminals to keep quiet. I'd only tell him what you have to."

"Duly noted," Dean said, letting Bryan lead them out of the room. He trusted Bryan's word about Curtis; he probably would have had some experience working with Curtis. Besides, Dean remembered his initial assessment of Curtis, and how he thought Curtis did drugs. No cop did drugs unless they were in with the wrong people; he probably accepted drugs as bribes—if he didn't straight up steal it from the evidence lockers. It wasn't unheard of.

Bryan went out first, and Dean was, as he'd been prepared for, stopped by Curtis. "I still need to get your report," Curtis reminded him, his voice grating on Dean's nerves.

"Ask away then," Dean told him tightly, relaxing a bit when he spotted Roman nearby, talking to Detective Bryan now.

Curtis went through all the basic questions, and Dean barely held still long enough to answer all of them, as well as the more in-depth questions afterward. Remembering Bryan's advice, he didn't go into a whole lot of detail. If Curtis was a crooked cop, Dean didn't want him to have any information about the investigation, especially if Curtis was connected with the Authority in any way; it wouldn't bode well if the Authority knew they were being investigated. It was best to keep it under wraps for the moment, especially if the last investigation was classified—Dean had a bad feeling about why it was all being kept secret.

Finally Curtis let him go, and Dean left with an audible sigh of relief he did nothing to hide, heading over to where Roman was now waiting. Roman gave him a small smile as he approached, and Dean couldn't help but smile in return; Roman's smiles always seemed contagious. "What's up?" Dean asked, stopping a professional distance from Roman.

"We're good to get out of here. They've taken the body out and Bryan has the crime scene under control, and he's promised to send us any evidence he finds."

"He's a good guy," Dean observed.

Roman nodded. "Come on, let's go before Curtis decides to haul either of us in for more questioning." Roman rolled his eyes, and Dean willingly followed him.

"So what now?" Dean asked as he got into the car, Roman pulling away from the house a moment later. "I mean, Batista was our only lead."

"Now we look for the next lead," Roman said with a shrug. "There'll be something."

"Let's hope," Dean muttered. "The sooner we get Rollins behind bars the better."


	4. Chapter 4

Roman was starting to wonder if his initial assessment of Dean being too close to the case had been right. They were already a week into investigating, and Dean was feverishly searching through every inch of paperwork they had, and seeing as Dean hated paperwork… It worried Roman.

"Come on Dean, let's head home. It's late."

"But I'm close to finishing this section," Dean said stubbornly. "It's just a bit more."

"It'll be there in the morning Dean," Roman said, resting his hand on Dean's shoulder as Dean took a sip of coffee from the travel mug on his desk. "You don't need to keep staying in late. Nothing's going to change in that paperwork between now and tomorrow. And if you really want to find anything out of it, you need some sleep."

Dean finally looked up, sighing. "I just want to find a lead."

"And you'll find one sometime soon. Just not now." Roman spoke firmly. "You're coming home with me. Now."

"Someone's bossy tonight," Dean observed, rubbing his eyes before bookmarking his place in the file, closing it and placing it in one of his desk drawers, leaving the surface of his desk spotless—something else that concerned Roman. A clean desk was a bad sign with Dean involved. Dean stood up, quickly downing the last of his coffee before grabbing his coat. "Are we getting dinner on the way home at least?"

Roman nodded. "I called in an order for pizza," he told Dean. "We'll pick it up on the way."

"Good," Dean said, leading the way out of the office; now that Roman had pried him away from his desk he seemed to be in a hurry to get home. "Are there any games on tonight?"

"I think there might be a football game on," Roman said with a shrug as they left the office. He left the door unlocked, knowing there were still a few of their coworkers inside, who, like Dean, were committed to finding what they needed for whatever cases they were working on. Roman's main concern was getting home so he could get some sleep. He was exhausted and his eyes hurt from staring at a screen and paperwork all day; Dean had left him the paperwork from finding Batista.

Nothing had come of that either, except for the fact that the coroner had determined that it actually was Batista after running a DNA test. It was lucky that Batista had been a convict at some point in his life, because it meant his DNA had been in the system. Otherwise it would have been far more difficult to figure out whose body it was.

Detective Bryan had also been in touch with the neighbors again, but apparently none of them besides a kid named Tyler Breeze had been able to tell them anything, and Dean said he'd gotten information the first time around. Dean had mentioned that Breeze had described a man with hair similar to Seth's, and that made Roman a bit wary to venture outside the realm of paperwork; it could mean that the Authority knew very well they were being investigated and were cleaning up any loose ends.

Roman was still lost in his thoughts by the time they arrived at the pizzeria to pick up the pizza, and he tried to clear his mind a little, wanting to forget about the case now that he had left the office. He closed his eyes, relaxing back in his seat as Dean went inside to pick up the pizza. It did cross his mind that he hoped Dean remembered to tip the person at the counter. When Dean set the pizzas down in the backseat and then sat back down in the driver's seat Roman opened his eyes, knowing that home was only a short distance away.

They arrived a short time later, and Dean headed inside ahead of Roman, who walked up the path to the front door where Dean was waiting, one hand resting on the door. "You plan on making it back in here tonight?" Dean teased, and Roman rolled his eyes, pushing past Dean to head inside.

Dean closed the door behind them, and Roman headed into the living room, sitting down on the couch and reaching for the remote. Dean had already put the pizza on the coffee table, and Roman opened the box, pulling out a slice and turning on the TV as he took a bite.

Dean dropped down to the couch a moment later, two beers in hand. He handed one to Roman, who took it from the other man as Dean grabbed the remote out of his hand. Roman didn't protest though, just letting Dean flip through the channels as he ate his pizza.

They ended up settling on a game show, avoiding all the police dramas like CSI that were on; Roman occasionally enjoyed watching an episode or two, but he ended up nitpicking what the show had gotten wrong, and he wasn't in the mood when he was trying to forget about work for a little. The game show was thankfully a distraction, and they watched a few episodes before Dean started falling asleep, his head drifting over to rest on Roman's shoulder. Knowing that Dean would end up hurting from sleeping like that, Roman roused him and sent him to go get ready for bed, promising that he'd be along shortly. He cleaned up the mess left in the living room and turned off the TV and lights, walking down the hall to the bedroom, where Dean was already lying on the bed, his eyes half-closed. They immediately opened back up as Roman walked in though, a result of the wariness their job sometimes required. Dean then relaxed again, and Roman went to go brush his teeth.

By the time he climbed into bed Dean was nearly asleep, though he was wakened by the bed moving. He gave Roman a small sleepy smile before Roman turned the light off, and Dean slid up against Roman, his body warm against Roman's. Roman listened to Dean's breathing even out as he fell asleep, and Roman closed his eyes, slowly heading for dreamland.

He was startled awake a short time later by Dean tensing, gripping Roman's arm painfully. Cursing, Roman guessed Dean was having a nightmare and shook his shoulder, attempting to wake the other man up. It worked, because Dean sat up with a gasp, looking around the darkened room in a panic before he realized he was just in their bedroom. Roman waited for him to speak before saying anything, just rubbing circles on Dean's back, the other man slowing his breathing back down before speaking.

"I thought you said the nightmares weren't going to come back," Dean accused.

Roman flinched. He'd forgotten that promise to Dean, having still been half-asleep when he'd said it, and he'd mainly said it to soothe Dean. He certainly hadn't expected to be assigned to a case with Seth Rollins as one of the main suspects when he'd told Dean that. He didn't know what to say, and Dean just sighed, dropping down to lie on his side, his back to Roman. Roman moved to lie down behind him, pulling Dean up close against him. "Was it about him breaking up with you again?"

"No." Dean shivered. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright." Roman knew it probably wasn't healthy for Dean to keep it bottled up, but he wasn't going to push. He kissed the back of Dean's head. "Let me know if you do though, okay?"

"Okay." Dean's reply was quiet, and Roman almost missed it. He listened as Dean fell asleep again, relaxing in Roman's arms, revealing just how tense he had still been. Once he was certain Dean was asleep, Roman closed his eyes, falling back asleep.

It was the alarm clock that woke him this time, and he sat up quickly, reaching over to turn it off. Dean was still sleeping, undisturbed by the alarm and Roman's movement. Knowing Dean needed all the sleep he could get, Roman slipped out of bed, heading for the shower.

By the time he finished getting ready for work Dean was still soundly asleep in bed and Roman was once again reluctant to wake him. They needed to get to work though, so he shook Dean's shoulder gently, and the other man's eyes slowly opened, darting up and down to take in the appearance of Roman's work clothes. Dean sat up with a yawn, stretching. "What time is it?" Dean asked him, rubbing his eyes.

"Time for you to get a watch," Roman teased.

"I have a watch," Dean grumbled.

"As if you ever wear it," Roman pointed out. He glanced over at the clock though. "It's 7:30. That'll give you an hour to get ready and a half hour for getting to the office."

Dean slid out of bed, muttering about the cold and early office hours. He headed for the shower though, and Roman left the room to go make breakfast now that he knew Dean was up, though he figured the smell of breakfast cooking would likely have woken the other man.

By the time Dean emerged from the shower it was already getting late, and Roman had already finished his breakfast and his coffee. He reminded Dean to hurry up as he went to go brush his teeth, leaving Dean to his own devices for the moment and hoping Dean didn't take forever.

They arrived at the office just on time, though Roman had had to push the speed limit coming up to the office, and not for the first time he reminded himself to wake Dean a bit earlier so they could make it out the door without rushing. And not for the first time Roman was aware it probably wasn't going to happen. So instead of fretting about it he followed Dean into the office, heading back to their desks, sitting down just as AJ walked into the room.

She walked over to them after a moment, stopping just beside their desks with a smile on her face, as perky as ever. "Hi guys. How's it going with your case?"

Dean pulled out the file he'd been reading the night before. "It's hurting my eyes," he told her.

"There's a lot of paperwork," Roman clarified as Dean started reading where he'd left off, feverishly searching the pages. He gave AJ a quick smile, hoping it made up for Dean's rude, antisocial behavior. "We'll get through it eventually."

"Alright then. Don't be afraid to ask me for anything if you need it." AJ smiled, and she walked off, her gait just barely hinting at a skip.

Roman relaxed as soon as she was back out the door. It wasn't that he hated his boss, but having AJ in the room was extra pressure he didn't want, not when the case was already like it was. He rolled his chair back a bit, setting up his desk the way he wanted it to start his day. It was just about ready when Roman's desk phone started ringing, and Roman answered it. "FBI, special agent Reigns. How can I help you?"

"I'm calling with an anonymous tip," the person told him, and Roman pulled out a pad of paper, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he uncapped a pen.

"About what?" Roman asked, writing 'anon tip' at the top of the paper.

"About Dave Batista's death," the person told him, and Roman quickly wrote that down, his pen scratching across the paper as Dean leaned over curiously, reading the words as Roman wrote them.

"What can you tell me?" Roman asked him, noting that the person had an odd-sounding voice.

"I can't tell you anything over the phone," the man told him. "I'm limited on time. Meet me at the Starbucks on 5th Avenue in an hour and I can talk," the man said urgently, clearly in a hurry. "I'll wait there for an hour—I'll be in the back booth. After that I'm gone." With that the man abruptly hung up, leaving Roman to curse softly as he set the phone back down in the cradle.

"What was that about?" Dean asked in interest, staring Roman's notes.

"Anonymous tipster who wants to meet up in person," Roman told him, standing up and picking his jacket up off of the back of his chair, along with his gun, badge, and cell phone. "Grab your coat. We just got us our lead."


	5. Chapter 5

"Of course we have to get stuck in traffic," Dean growled, hitting the horn when the car in front of him didn't move despite a huge gap of space.

"Maybe I should have driven," Roman observed mildly.

Dean shook his head, hitting the gas and then slamming on the brakes as traffic once again came to a halt. "Nah. I've got it."

"You've got road rage," Roman commented, but Dean ignored it, focusing on the road and the cars crowded around them. They had a lead. All that mattered was getting through traffic so they could go talk to this guy. Dean wasn't much of a praying man, but he was praying that the man would have something that would give them a major boost in the case; he was tired of sitting around in the office day after day sifting through old paperwork. Sitting still wasn't really his forte; it was evident even now with his fingers tapping the steering wheel as traffic idled.

"We'll make it there on time." Dean glanced over as Roman spoke. "We've got plenty of time."

"I just don't want him to slip through our fingers," Dean muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I don't understand why he couldn't have just told you over the phone what he knows. It's not anonymous anymore if we meet in person."

"I don't know Dean," Roman said patiently. "Why don't you ask him when we get there?"

"I think I will," Dean said firmly. "It doesn't make much sense."

"You're obsessing."

"So what? It's either I obsess over the caller or I obsess over the fact that I could miss the guy and totally lose any chance of putting Seth behind bars." Dean wildly swerved around the car stopped in front of them, zooming around into the gap that had been left by the car remaining stopped.

Roman sighed. "I still think you're too close to this case."

"Are we really going to go over this again?" Dean questioned, maneuvering the car into another empty space. "I'm not too close. I just want to see justice done and see Rollins behind bars. There's nothing personal about that."

"Uh huh." Roman didn't sound like he believed Dean, and Dean didn't blame him; Dean hardly believed himself. "Did you ever stop and wonder what's going to happen if it's Kane or Orton that's the problem and it's Seth who's innocent?"

Dean slammed on the brakes, luckily stopping just in time to avoid crashing into the car in front of them. "Damn it Roman," Dean growled, hitting the side of the steering wheel. "Why'd you have to say that?"

"It's a possibility we might end up having to deal with," Roman told him, and Dean heard the sympathy in his partner's voice. "I just want you to be ready for that if it's what ends up happening."

Dean shuddered. "Just… Don't."

He heard Roman mutter something, but it wasn't audible to Dean, masked in the sound of a car horn nearby. The rest of the time in traffic was spent in silence; Dean guessed Roman was wary of saying the wrong thing. The traffic finally broke up when they passed a wreck taking up the far right lane, a small four-door car sitting behind a large semi-truck. The whole top of the small car seemed almost sheared off, and Dean grimaced, guessing that the car had attempted to speed up or remained at speed when the big rig had slowed, resulting in the car being torn up as it hit the bar on the underside of the trailer. Dean glanced over curiously one last time as they passed the last bit of the wreck, wincing when he thought he spotted Detective Bryan.

After that the drive went smoothly, and they ended up outside the Starbucks within their hour time limit, though they were fifteen minutes later than Dean would have liked. He just hoped that the tipster would be able to remain after the one hour time limit he'd mentioned earlier.

Finding parking took another five minutes, making Dean antsy. A hand on his shoulder from Roman made him still, though it was only briefly. They headed inside, and Dean now fell in behind Roman as they walked toward the back booth; he figured Roman should be the one to approach the tipster first, since it had been Roman the man had called.

The man was sitting with his back to them as they approached. His hood was up and a hat brim was peeking out from beneath the hood. It completely hid his appearance, and it made Dean wary. He preferred to see a person's face so he could identify them later.

"You made it," the man observed, not turning to look at them; Dean leaned forward to see the man had his phone in hand, his front-facing camera on; it showed Dean and Roman easily, though it still didn't show the unknown man's face. "Sit down."

Roman sat down in the empty booth, and Dean sat down next to him, tapping on the edge of the table just slightly. Roman grabbed his hand, stopping him as Roman pulled out his badge. "Special agents Reigns and Ambrose," Roman told the man. "You told us you had information about Dave Batista."

"I do," the person said, and Dean frowned as he listened to the voice; the man in front of them sounded like he wasn't using his real voice, because it kept slipping. And where it slipped, it sounded familiar to Dean. Now he just had to figure out why.

"Would you mind telling us now that we're here?" Roman asked politely, pulling out his notepad so he could write as the man spoke.

"I know who killed him," the man told them, tapping something on his phone before sliding it into his pocket.

"You mind telling us who it is then?" Dean asked impatiently.

"First…" the man trailed off for a moment. "First I was wondering if we could discuss some sort of witness protection," he admitted. "I'm putting myself at risk by even calling you. And if I tell you this stuff…"

"It's possible that we might be able to arrange protection for you," Roman told him carefully. "If it's so risky for you though, why not just quickly tell us over the phone anonymously?"

"I only had a short time to call, and more time to be here; they don't watch me here. Besides you need witnesses for the case, right? I can be that witness, if you give me protection."

"Who is they?" Dean questioned. "Don't play the pronoun game with me."

"The Authority," the man whispered. "They're usually following me around at any point. Practically the only time where I'm by myself is when I come here for coffee."

"Why is the Authority following you around?" Roman queried.

"Because I know who killed Batista! Weren't you listening?" the man said indignantly. "Please, I need the protection. I need to get away from them before they do anything to me!"

"I can't promise anything," Roman warned him. "All I can say is that we can try to get you into witness protection."

Dean nodded. "It would help if you're actually a witness though," he pointed out. He gritted his teeth as he felt Roman step on his foot; it was Roman telling him to shut up.

"I am a witness," the man promised them. "I know who killed Batista."

"Who was it then?" Dean pressed, feeling impatient.

"It was me."

Dean looked up sharply when it wasn't the man in the booth who spoke, but a person standing next to the table. Dean's eyes widened when he saw who it was, and he quickly reached for his gun. His hand was just touching the cold metal of his gun when he heard a loud click, and he glanced at the man in front of them, the man who currently had a gun pointed at them under the table. "Hands off the gun or your guts are all over the wall Ambrose," Jimmy Jacobs told him.

Dean removed his hands from his gun, placing them on the table; Roman was watching warily, the widened whites of his eyes and his tense muscles the only indications of his fear. But Dean couldn't afford to let the man in front of them see his fear. "Hello to you too Jimmy," Dean commented, just the slightest hint of sarcasm present in his words; he remembered the man as one of Seth's friends, one of the men who'd dragged Seth into the drug trade and crime in the first place. "Nice to see you Seth," he finally said to the man standing next to the table, now watching as Seth Rollins sneered at them from where he stood.

"You know, I never expected to run into you again after I left you for dead on floor in that cesspit hotel," Seth observed.

"You didn't make sure I was actually dead," Dean retorted, his palms sweaty as he forced himself to keep his hands loose.

"It's not a mistake I'm going to make twice," Seth promised him. He glanced over at Roman, who was still frozen in place. "So this is the guy you liked to talk so much about," Seth mused, his eyes raking over Dean's partner. "Roman Reigns." Dean wanted to slap Seth for thinking that he had the right to talk about Roman.

"What do you want Seth?" Dean said sharply, cutting Seth off. "There's a reason you and Jimmy set this up."

"We found out you were… looking into Dave's death."

"We? As in the Authority?" Dean questioned.

"Yes, the Authority," Seth said impatiently. "We heard that you were looking into his death, and apparently we're deciding to play it fair. You leave the Authority alone, and we'll let you live. But if you continue investigating…" Seth shrugged. "The Authority does what's best for business, even if it means eliminating you both."

"So we're supposed to forget that you just confessed to killing Dave Batista because you're threatening us?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's all hearsay," Seth said smugly. "You don't have a damn thing on me until you get me to confess on record. And you can bet I don't plan on doing that."

"We can take you in for threatening federal officers," Dean pointed out.

"No, no, no, no," Seth said, with a short laugh at the end. "You don't get it, do you Ambrose? You don't get to make the decisions right now. Jimmy is the one with the gun pointed at you. And since Jimmy answers to me, you do what I say."

"If you shoot me we'll have a damn good reason to put you behind bars long enough for us to find evidence on Batista," Dean spat. "It's not a winning scenario for you either Seth."

Seth just stared at him. "You really are a nutcase Ambrose," he said, shaking his head. "Jimmy's got a gun pointed at you and you think you still have room to negotiate?"

"I'm not afraid of either of you," Dean told him boldly, leaning forward. "Go ahead. Do it. I dare you." His sweaty palms grasped the edge of the table, tensing, unsure if Seth would really tell Jimmy to take the shot.

He should have expected Seth to make the quick jump in logic to his next choice; Seth was always planning ahead. Seth glanced at Jimmy, nodding toward Roman. "So you're not afraid of getting shot, but now Jimmy's got the gun pointed at pretty boy over there," Seth sneered, looking at Roman. "The Authority doesn't give second chances Dean," Seth warned. "Drop the case."

Dean was now frozen in panic. It was his worst nightmare, to have Roman threatened like this. He opened his mouth to speak, knowing already he would agree to Seth's terms, to the Authority's terms. Dropping the case and getting away from the man sitting across from them and the man standing next to them was the best option; perhaps Roman was right after all, and he was too close to the case. Seth knowing him so well was a major Achilles heel, a boon for the Authority. The first words started to slip past his lips when Seth glanced at Jimmy, nodding just once.

"Get up," Jimmy growled, now bringing the gun above the table, while Seth pulled one out from his waistband. "Get up, now."

Dean slid out of the booth, feeling Seth press the gun against his side. Murmurs were now going through the Starbucks as people started to realize what was going on over by the back booth. Roman stood up next to Dean, though Jimmy kept the gun trained on him.

"Make your decision Dean," Seth told him. "Last chance."

Dean went to speak. "We'll…"

Roman interrupted. "Go to hell," he growled at Seth, and Dean's eyes went wide.

He started to scream no but it was cut off by the sound of Jimmy's gun firing, and Dean's world seemed to slow as the bullets were fired, and he felt Seth move his gun to shoot Roman. Dean pushed away from Seth, darting forward.

He thought Roman might be screaming; it would explain the noise he was hearing. But it was muted, because all he could focus on was the sight of Roman clutching his chest, falling to his knees. The other man looked up at Dean for a moment, his gray eyes panicked as he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath yet choking on blood. Dean made it to Roman's side, forgetting about Seth and Jimmy, only able to concentrate on his partner. "Roman!" His voice sounded muffled, even to his own ears. He knelt next to Roman, noticing how Roman at least had his hands pressed to the gunshots; hopefully it would slow the bleeding.

But the next moment Roman was launching himself upward, crashing into Dean and knocking him to the floor as the gun in Seth's hand was fired again, the bullet narrowly missing Dean; Dean almost swore he felt it pass through his hair.

Dean finally came to his senses, realizing that losing focus of Seth and Jimmy was costly. He rolled off of his side, trying not to roll over Roman as he pulled out his gun, raising it to shoot either of his adversaries when he felt the cold metal of a gun barrel get pressed against his skull.

"Drop the gun Ambrose," Seth ordered. "Or I'll have Jimmy shoot that little kid over there." He gestured to a child cowering in a corner, not nearly as hidden behind his mother as the mother would probably like. Jimmy raised the gun, pointing it without hesitation at the child.

"Shooting kids Seth?" Dean commented, but he slowly lowered his hands, setting the gun down on the floor. "I knew you were a little lacking in morals, but I didn't realize it was that bad."

"Shut up Ambrose! Do you never learn?" Seth glanced toward the front of the Starbucks, where the van he'd probably hopped out of a few moments earlier was idling, the driver waiting to go. Dean knew he only had to delay Seth a little longer; the other man would want to make it out before the police arrived, and already it sounded like there were sirens in the distance. "This is a warning Ambrose. Drop the damn case, and stay the hell out of my way." Seth moved the gun away from Dean's forehead, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief, one that quickly turned into a fearful shout as Seth turned the gun back to Roman, pulling the trigger without so much as blinking. Seth turned away, motioning for Jimmy to follow him. The two were quickly in the van outside, and Dean wished he was close enough to see the plates, even though he knew the van was likely to end up in a ditch somewhere by the end of the night.

His focus quickly bounced back to Roman, and he was unable to make a noise as he discovered Roman lying unmoving on the floor behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hey look! I'm actually back to post something. O.O Sorry for the delays, but I got hit with a round of finals for college and have been super busy; it didn't help that I had to rewrite most of this chapter when I realized I was writing myself into a corner. But now I fixed it, and I've officially graduated from junior college with an associate's degree in the administration of justice (basically criminal justice). I thought it's a bit appropriate since I'm writing a story about that sort of stuff. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are always welcome but not required. :) Hope all of you have a good holiday if you celebrate, or at least a good rest of the year!


	6. Chapter 6

"He's extremely lucky to be alive right now."

The doctor's words were met with the greatest sense of relief from Dean. Roman was alive.

The doctor continued speaking, even though he was likely aware of Dean's sheer relief. "The shot to the head skimmed off his skull—it's happened before, but it's not the most common thing." The doctor hesitated for a moment. "As for the rest of the gunshot wounds…" He cleared his throat. "It'll be a while until he's healed, but… It'll take a lot for him to get back to being one hundred percent, if he ever does get there. It's likely he'll feel the effects of those bullets for the rest of his life, unfortunately. There was a lot of damage to his internal organs, including a few punctures. We've fixed them up of course, but I want you to be aware that we can't make it what it was before he got shot."

"I'm just happy he's alive," Dean whispered. "When I saw him…"

The doctor nodded. "It was close, I'm not going to lie. You're lucky the shooters didn't hold you up any longer."

Dean let out a shuddering sigh. "Thank you doc. I'm sure you hear it a lot, but I don't have enough words to say thank you for saving him."

"It's what I'm here for," the doctor answered, but he gave Dean a small smile. "I hope they catch the guys who did this."

Dean nodded. "I'm going to see to it that those two are behind bars for the rest of their miserable lives."

"Good." The doctor patted Dean on the shoulder. "Now go on ahead and go see him. He's still going to be asleep at the moment, but I'm sure seeing him will make you feel better."

"Thanks doc," Dean said one last time, and the doctor nodded, stepping aside to let Dean pass into the room.

He spotted Roman immediately; the man had always stood out to him. Dean hurried to Roman's bedside, even though he knew Roman was asleep and didn't know he was there. All that mattered was the pulse that beat under his fingertips in Roman's wrist, even though it was a bit erratic. All that mattered was that Roman was alive. He was going to make it.

The horror he'd experienced in the Starbucks was not something he ever wanted to relive. Seeing Roman lying out cold on the floor, unmoving in a pool of his own blood… Dean had assumed the worst and assumed him dead. It was as if his whole world had come crashing down in that instant; Roman was his rock, his anchor. Roman was the one who'd helped him after the disaster known as Seth Rollins. To lose that…

Someone with more sense than him had called 911, and an ambulance had arrived shortly after, and it had taken a lot for the paramedic to pry him away from Roman, to stop him from searching for even the weakest of pulse. He'd climbed into the ambulance, watching as the paramedic immediately went to work, doing things that were nothing more than a meaningless blur to him. All that was important was that Roman was being worked on; it meant he was alive.

It was a tenuous hold on life though, if the rapidity of the paramedic's work was any indication. The man was almost the blur of motion Dean imagined him to be, working to strengthen Roman's connection to life.

The fact that Roman was lying on the bed in front of him and not a gurney in the morgue was proof that the paramedic had succeeded in his task. Roman was alive, and no matter how it would work out in the future, all that mattered was that Roman was not going to die.

"Dean?"

Roman's hoarse voice made Dean's eyes widen. "You're still supposed to be asleep," Dean whispered, speaking quietly as if disturbing the silence of the hospital room would undo the past few minutes of Dean's calm.

Roman just weakly grasped Dean's arm, pulling him down toward him. Dean went willingly, not wanting Roman to hurt himself. Roman kissed him lightly, and Dean kissed him in return, trying to control his euphoria at seeing Roman awake and alive.

Of course, kissing while he was still on duty was unprofessional, but professionalism was low on the list of Dean's priorities at the moment.

"So I'm guessing Jacobs and the other guy left," Roman coughed after letting Dean sit back.

Dean nodded, trying not to grip Roman's hand too tightly. "They left the Starbucks after they shot you," he said quietly.

Now Roman spoke quietly. "Did… did I hear you right when you called the second man Seth?"

Dean nodded tightly, unintentionally gripping Roman's hand with more force than necessary, though he let up as he saw Roman wince. "Yeah. That was Seth Rollins."

"I thought it might be," Roman murmured, closing his eyes. "It matched his case file photos."

"Yeah." Dean was nearly silent with his replies, noticing that Roman was starting to fall back asleep. "I'm gonna get them behind bars."

Roman's eyes shot back open in worry. "No Dean. Let the case go. Let someone else handle it. What if you get shot next? What am I going to do?"

"What am I going to do if Seth's still running around loose out there?" Dean countered. "He's dangerous Roman, and I don't think that…" He trailed off, noticing that Roman's eyes had drifted shut once more. "I'm doing this Roman," he whispered. "For you. They need to pay for this."

He stood up, leaning back over once to kiss Roman on the forehead. Murmuring a low "Love you," he turned away, heading for the door out of the room. He needed to talk to AJ, to see what he was to do from here. Dean obviously wanted to continue the case, but if Roman was going to be out of action for a while…

His phone rang just as he stepped outside of the room, and he answered it quickly. It was AJ, and she sounded like she was somewhere between pissed off and frightened. "Ambrose?" She demanded. "What's this I heard about Reigns getting shot?"

Dean took a deep breath. "We were going to talk to a witness… and it turns out he was just working with Rollins, and S…" He trailed off, knowing he wasn't supposed to be on a first name basis with the criminal. "Uh, Rollins turned up just to shoot Roman. They both left after that, and Roman's in the hospital right now."

"And why didn't you call me and tell me this earlier?" AJ demanded. "I swear, can you do nothing by the book Ambrose? And speaking of… we need to talk about your…" AJ paused, and Dean guessed she was looking for the right word. "Your connection to Mr. Rollins. I expect to see you in my office in an hour."

"Wait…" Dean started to speak, but AJ had already hung up. He cursed though, wondering what AJ had managed to dig up about him and Seth. It made him nervous; if she found out about him associating with Seth, especially when he'd known Seth was a felon… it was going to cost him his badge.

He did realize it was probably going to cost him if he showed up late though, so he quickly glanced back at Roman before leaving the hospital, calling a taxi to take him back to Starbucks so he could pick up his car. When he arrived he discovered that the place was still taped off with crime scene tape, and the city police was still there talking to witnesses and gathering up whatever evidence there might be.

He was hailed by one of the police officers, and Dean gave the other man a small attempt at a smile; he'd worked with Dolph Ziggler before on other cases and he'd been easy to work with. "What's up?" Dean asked him as he approached.

"I heard about Reigns," Ziggler said, grimacing. "How's he doing?"

"He's going to make it," Dean said, the relief evident in his voice. "The bullets to his stomach did some damage, but the bullet to the head only skimmed over his skull. I guess he really does have a hard head."

Ziggler laughed. "Don't let him hear you say that." He was more somber the next moment though. "I'm surprised you're not with him right now."

"Duty calls," Dean sighed. "Or rather, the boss calls. I'm supposed to be in her office in…" Dean glanced at the time on his phone. "Twenty minutes." He grimaced. "I'm going to be late."

"So I'm going to have to get my witness statement later or what?" Ziggler questioned.

Dean sighed. "Reigns and I were here to speak to a witness. The witness—name of Jimmy Jacobs—was actually planted by Seth Rollins though, who turned up, and both of them shot Reigns several times in the chest. They waited a moment or two, threatened me, and then shot Reigns in the head before they left."

Ziggler was quickly writing on a notepad as Dean spoke, and he looked up once he was done. "So you knew these guys?"

"They're part of the case we're working on," Dean told him. It was a bit of a lie about Jacobs, though he imagined that Jacobs now would be part of the case, if he was working with Seth. "Alright man, I gotta go before I lose my job."

Ziggler nodded. "Hey, tell Roman to get well soon from me, yeah?"

Dean nodded. "I'll tell him. See you around Ziggler."

"See ya Ambrose."

Dean was quick to get in his car, pulling out of the parking lot. He headed down the street, hoping AJ was now used to his lateness and that she'd excuse him for a few minutes of being late when he'd had to talk to Ziggler as well as wait for a taxi to even get to his car.

He pulled into the office nearly ten minutes late, and Dean was quick to hurry to AJ's office, knowing he shouldn't delay. He knocked before pushing open the door, nearly wanting to groan when he saw who was in there looking at the files he'd spent hours upon hours going through.

"Ambrose. How nice of you to finally show up," AJ commented. "Close the door and take a seat."

Dean warily closed the door to AJ's office, sinking down into a chair next to the man he didn't want to be anywhere near.

AJ spoke, unaware or uncaring of Dean's dislike of the person next to him. "So, while you were taking your nice sweet time getting here, I took the liberty of briefing Cena on the case."

John Cena looked over at Dean. "Looks like you guys got in a bit too deep for the Authority's liking. I'm sorry to hear about Roman."

"Hmm." Dean's response was noncommittal.

AJ spoke, interrupting the awkward silence. "Anyway Ambrose… Cena will be working on the case with you, if you're willing to continue working on it."

"I am," Dean answered immediately.

"Then we need to talk… privately." AJ glanced at Cena. "Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"

Cena stood up. "I don't mind," he said with his trademark smile. "Take as much time as you need." He paused right by the door. "I'm looking forward to working with you Ambrose." He left the office, closing the door behind him.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Dean asked his boss.

"I'm tempted to lecture you about your punctuality, but I'm guessing Reigns is the only reason you even show up to work." AJ frowned. "So... it's no secret that you and Roman are together. Now, that's not the problem," AJ said quickly. "But what seems to be a secret is who you broke up with to be with Roman in the first place." Dean felt his heart stop as AJ spoke again. "You were with Seth Rollins prior to that, weren't you?"

Dean remained silent, knowing that it would be better if he didn't say anything. They couldn't pin it down as a confession if he stayed quiet.

AJ sighed. "No wonder you had that reaction when I showed you that picture of Rollins, when I first briefed you on the case." She stared at Dean for a moment. "You realize I could take your badge for that right?"

The tension in the office seemed to increase tenfold as Dean refused to speak.

"Ambrose…" AJ said sternly. "Stop giving me the silent treatment. Speak before I decide to take the badge anyway. I've got more than enough evidence to not need a confession, and I'm sure I could even get Rollins to be a witness in that case," she said caustically. "Don't make me be that person Ambrose."

Dean finally spoke. "Yeah, we were together for about a year."

"You ran a background check on him prior to dating him." AJ didn't frame it as a question.

Dean simply nodded. "I did. Yet I figured if he'd gotten out on good behavior…" he shrugged. "I thought he'd move on from that shit. But…"

"What happened that made you want to put him behind bars so badly?" AJ asked perceptively. "You were chomping at the bit to have this case."

Dean hesitated. It was never easy to admit that he'd been beaten and broken so thoroughly. "Let's just say… the way he broke up with me… there was some literal breaking involved."

AJ seemed to be putting the pieces together. "That was, what, right around the Slater case? That was why asked to stay home for two weeks, wasn't it?"

The memories made Dean wince, and he knew it was selfish of him to want Roman to be out of the hospital simply so he could be here to comfort him. But he nodded in reply to AJ's words, knowing he had to stand on his own two feet for at least a little. "It was," he admitted.

AJ sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before meeting Dean's gaze. "I'm going to have to take you off the case Ambrose."


End file.
